


The Only Girl in the World

by agoodtuckering



Series: The Romance of Windsor Gardens [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Paddington (Movies), Paddington Bear - Michael Bond
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship, Mentions of Danny Pink, Mutual Pining, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21797707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodtuckering/pseuds/agoodtuckering
Summary: The best decision Ronald Curry ever made was wandering next door, potted plant in hand, to greet his new neighbor. He'll swear by it. A wonderful new friendship came out of it.
Relationships: Mr. Curry (Paddington)/Clara Oswin Oswald
Series: The Romance of Windsor Gardens [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570750
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	The Only Girl in the World

**Author's Note:**

> I do hereby declare this ship name Whouffaldington. I love this series already. I've been writing this couple in RP for years and years. I figured I had to finally write a series on here about them. I love them too much. 
> 
> This story takes place before the second film, but Ronald has those longer, sexier curls, not that atrocious haircut they gave him in the first film. JUST SAYING. WHY DO I LIKE THEM DORKY BOYS?

He saw her moving in one morning. It was pouring rain and she was moving boxes in through the front door, all from the back of a truck. There was a young man with her. His name was Danny, Ronald had heard. But something must have happened. During that first week he stopped coming. It seemed… _odd,_ really. And Ronald _always_ noticed odd things, didn’t he? He paid attention to his neighbors out of curiosity. 

Maybe she and her boyfriend had broken up? 

It was days later that he foolishly found himself standing on her front stoop and knocking gently at her door. When she answered, he felt more like a rabbit caught in the headlights than anything else. 

“Hello,” she said, a bright, friendly smile finding her lips. Was he a neighbor? She thought she’d seen him a few times, maybe. 

Gently, he handed over a Russian sage plant and introduced himself. “Hi,” he began. “I'm Ronald Curry. I live next door. Just wanted to come by and say hello.”

She couldn't stop smiling. There was something about this silly little man and his jumpers that made her warm inside. She sniffed the sage plant before responding softly. “Nice to meet you, Ronald. My nana is Clara. Clara Oswald, actually. Come in, yeah? Please.”

He tentatively came inside, listening to her speak as they went. “Mind your step. I'm sorry that there are boxes everywhere. I'm still unpacking. Thank you for the potted herb. What kind is it?”

He smiled and narrowly avoided bumping into any boxes, following her into a small, homey kitchen. “Russian sage,” he replied. “Although it's not _really_ a sage plant. They just call it that for some reason. It loves the heat, so keep it away from any windows in the house. A heat lamp would probably be best for light _and_ warmth.”

She was smiling in a way that made his belly twist in a ridiculous way. 

“Do a lot of gardening, do you?” she asked, genuinely curious. “I’ll be sure to take your advice, Mr. Curry. 

He gave her a wee proud expression for a moment before adding, “Ronald, please. Call me Ronald. And I do. I do a lot of gardening in my spare time. I enjoy it.”

She placed the potted herb down on the counter, leaving it far away from the window to keep warm. “I enjoy gardening,” she said softly. “I’m afraid I don’t have much talent for it, but I _do_ enjoy it. I’m a teacher, so I’m not home all that much anymore.” 

_Among other things,_ she thought to herself. She was always knocking about the Universe with a skinny, silly alien as well, but it was best not to tell _him_ that. He’d call her mad and go running from the house, she was sure of it. 

“A teacher?” he asked, brightening a bit. “Where?” 

She shrugged a jumper-clad shoulder, offering him a wee smile before replying, “Coal Hill Academy. I enjoy it. I love teaching bright young things. Not always easy, you know, and some days _really_ try my patience, but it’s rather rewarding. Sometimes things just _click_ into place and the kids are so engaged and genuinely curious. Moments like those are worth all the trouble.” 

He was admiring the stainless steel appliances and he smiled softly at her words. “That sounds rewarding,” he agreed gently. Then he confessed, “I work in a bookstore, part-time. I’m afraid I’m not very interesting. Not like you, anyway. I read a lot and garden regularly and hate loud neighbors. Makes me sound a bit dull, doesn’t it?”  
  
She laughed at that. “Not at all!” She playfully thumped his arm. “I’m an English teacher. Reading is sort of my favorite thing in the world to do. Where’s your bookshop?” 

And the rest, as they say, was history. 

They became rather good friends. She would come by for gardening advice, beg for his help with her herbs that she’d collected over a period of time and kept inside due to the rather terrible weather. They talked about their favorite music, their favorite poets and telly series. He fixed her kitchen sink on exactly two occasions. She went and visited him at his bookstore as well, taking her time and having the _longest_ discussions about their favorite authors. They even exchanged phone numbers, or took out one another’s rubbish when one of them wasn’t home or had forgotten. 

It happened rather slowly, he realized, but by the time he realized it, it was far too late to turn back now. He had feelings for her. He’d quite possibly even fallen for her. And after what Millicent had put him through, he wasn’t sure that he was ready to fall for someone new. And then of course there was the matter of her _ex-boyfriend._ He learned that the man’s name _was_ Danny.

They just hadn’t been working out, Clara had said. She and Danny weren’t right. She wanted different things in her life than he had. She didn’t want to be someone’s stay-at-home wife. She was independent and wanted to work and enjoy life. She wasn’t ready to be married and be stuck at home.

Another plumbing-related occasion, she’d called him over to beg for his help. “I’m too short,” she’d complained, lacking a proper, safe ladder to fix tiptop parts of her shower-head in her loo. He’d had to take the entire mechanism apart, grumbling about how different things were _now_ than they had been years ago. _Everything was made of plastic now,_ he’d grumbled. _And everything broke so easily._ And then it was all, _my hands are far too tiny to be reaching inside there, Ronald. Mind helping?_ And really, he could never say no to her. 

The whole ordeal had ended with him soaked from head to toe as the pipe burst and they had to call in a plumber, anyway. A half hour later and she was towel-drying his damp head for him. He was sat atop the closed lid of the toilet, as miserable-looking as could be. She laughed and mussed his curly hair with the towel, admitting, “You look like a grumpy owl. C’mon, cheer up. Thank you for trying to help me. It means a lot.” 

He cast a glance up at her and she tried not to laugh at how pitiful he looked, sat there with a towel around his neck and his hair sticking up on end as it dried. “C’mon,” she said, “I’ll get you some dinner. I’ve got some leftovers in the refrigerator.” 

The night had ended with them listening to the plumber clinking and clanking around her loo, both of them sat in front of the heater in her living room to dry off properly and keep warm. 

They were _genuinely_ becoming friends. She enjoyed his company, was grateful for the little things that he did for her, and she even laughed at his jokes. She was comfortable with him. It just felt _right._ Sometimes it was like she was the only girl in the world for him. _  
_

One night he blurted out, “Would you like to go to dinner with me?” He regretted the words the moment they fell from his lips. They’d both gone outside to put the bins out for the rubbish men in the morning. They’d been talking, admiring the falling snow. Christmas was steadily approaching. 

“Sorry?” she asked, a bit confused. He’d asked the question so fast that she’d nearly missed it. They’d had meals together before but this, this felt so _different._

He gulped. “Nothing,” he tried. “Nevermind.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest, half to steal away from the cold and half to look more stern in front of him. Coming over, gently walking across the cold — _and potentially frozen_ — sidewalk, she added, “Didn’t sound like nothing to me. Sounded like you asked me something. Want to try again?” 

He pushed a hand through his longer-than-usual, curly hair and swallowed thickly, as nervous as could be. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see it. As it was, Clara wanted to reach out and squeeze his arm, just to comfort the poor man. 

He simply admired her for a moment before daring to speak again. “I asked you if you’d fancy having dinner with me sometime.” She watched his Adam’s apple bob awkwardly in his throat. “I just… I know this Italian place around the corner. Their food’s really good and the atmosphere is relaxing. I thought it might be nice.”

She thought, in that moment, that she’d never seen a sweeter man before. She could see herself falling for him. And why should she fall in line with society’s rules? Age differences, her arse. He was sweet and kind and they loved the same things. She found his awkward nature and bumbling self, whenever he was around her, to be more than endearing. And in all fairness, she had _eyes_ and she _saw_ the way he looked at her. There was a story there, though. Someone had obviously hurt him. She wanted to know more. And really, _when was the last time he’d gone out to dinner with someone?_ He barely had any friends. He was a terribly lonely man and she hated the thought. It made her ache inside because they’d become friends.

Looking up into his face, her brown eyes meeting his soft green ones, she smiled softly and asked, “Are you asking me out on a date, Ronald?” 

He began to sputter. Even with their height differences, being so much shorter than him, she could tell that he was blushing. And how on earth did he manage to smell _that good?_ He smelled like spicy cologne and Earl Grey tea. He said, “I… Well… I never said… No… Why would I? You’re younger and prettier. And dear god, what would you be doing with an older man like me? No no, no thank you, I’d never dare to do anything as foolish…” 

His rambling thoughts were halted by her hand on his. She’d reached out and covered his fingers with her own, saying, “Because I was about to say yes, if you were.”

His eyes went wide. “You were?” 

She squeezed his hand gently and wandered away, making her way towards her front steps. “I was,” she said over her shoulder, bouncing a bit to keep warm from the cold. “I’d love to. Call me tomorrow and we’ll talk about it. I’d love to try that Italian place you mentioned. Sounds cozy.” 

He couldn’t stop the grin that found his lips. “Okay, I will,” he replied. “I won’t forget.” 

_Things were taking a turn for the better, weren’t they?_

**Author's Note:**

> Expect more to come. Also there'll be more soon for my Malcolm x Nicola series as well.


End file.
